


Domesticity

by shadoedseptmbr



Series: Tales from the Shelterverse [7]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic, Gen, OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadoedseptmbr/pseuds/shadoedseptmbr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation between ladies. An edited snippet from Steal Away Home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domesticity

**Author's Note:**

> _A small conversation between Aeryn Hawke and Dierdre Theirin, during chapter 14 of Steal Away Home._

Aeryn had intended to give Meridan Caron's gift to Deirdre more than once, but events had interfered. She'd been hesitant to just hand it over to a servant for delivery as it was personal and Meridan had been eager to see it delivered carefully.

 

She snorted at her own self-deception.  Alright, so events hadn't interfered.  Aeryn simply was uncomfortable chatting with Deirdre.  The woman was friendly enough, but in a distant, distracted sort of way.  And if it hadn't been for the startled look of shock that had crossed Deirdre's face during that first meeting when Aeryn had reminded Alistair why the Champion didn't make the best houseguest, Aeryn could have put it down to babies and queenly responsibility.

 

But Aeryn knew well enough what a well-bred, gently reared woman would think of Aeryn’s history.  So she had given Deirdre her space, hoping to earn a bit of confidence.  It hadn't happened yet and given their expected departure, she was unlikely to see it change.  It would be unforgivably rude to hang onto the gift any longer, so Aeryn brought it with her, expecting to be told that Deirdre was unable to thank her personally.

 

Instead she was ushered into an attractively appointed sitting room, in muted tones of Theirin colors, rich rose and pale gold.  Even more golden in coloring, Deirdre was seated on an upholstered chair, cursing (quite inventively, too, it registered with Aeryn) at a small scrap of creamy wool as she sucked on a finger.  The queen glanced up and blushed.  "Oh, excuse me."

 

"No, excuse me, your highness.  Ah...is there something I could help you with?"

 

“Only if you claim to be a seamstress, my lady, as well as a Champion."

 

"Well...I can sew a seam, mend a tear and make a few things, so long as you aren’t asking for anything too fancy.  What's the problem?"

 

Dierdre stared at her.  "You're serious?"

 

"My mother earned a fair bit of our family income as a seamstress, once.  She never allowed us to be idle, either."  Aeryn hesitantly reached for the garment.  "May I?"

 

“Oh, please.”  The queen handed it over, just refraining from pushing the frustrating thing away.

 

Aeryn considered sinking down to the floor, as she used to when sewing hems for her mother,  though the queen’s woven carpet was finer than most of the upholstery that had ever graced the Hawke household…but…no.   _Adults sit in chairs, Aeryn_ , her mother’s not quite exasperated voice whispered in her ear.  So she sat down in the armchair opposite Dierdre to work.

 

Aeryn straightened the little dress over her knee and quickly found the problem, a tiny rolled hem twisting from a badly placed stitch.  

Deirdre watched her work for a minute, idly spooling a skein of thread.  "You grew up in Ferelden, I think? Where, might I ask?"

 

"All over.  I was born outside of Highever, but we moved around a fair amount.  Lothering for the longest, before the Blight."  Aeryn hesitated before adding, "My father was an apostate."  She wasn’t quite sure how much Alistair had shared of them with his wife.

 

Deirdre's expression was carefully polite but Aeryn gave her credit for indulging her curiosity.  "You've no magic yourself?"

 

"No.  Skipped my brother and me."

 

"I did not know you had a brother.  He is not with you?"

 

"No.  Carver died as we were fleeing the Blight."

 

"Oh, I am sorry."  Deirdre flushed a little, bringing out the faded freckles across her nose as she continued to watch Hawke’s hands work, efficient and capable.

 

"Thank you.  It was a long time ago, now."  Aeryn had set the hem right and handed the dress back.  "There you go.  All fixed."

 

“Oh good.  One down.  Three dozen to go." The queen sighed dramatically but with a wry twist to her mouth.

 

Aeryn smiled tentatively. Deirdre had seemed afraid of her until now, and Aeryn hesitated to jar this quiet moment.  "You do have assistance, though."

 

Deirdre gave an elegant shrug, “It's frowned upon to have servants make the baby's things.  It's proof that I am not merely an idle adornment.  Unfortunately, I was never particularly skilled in this area.  My nurse and tutors despaired, frequently.  In fact,” she added with a little polite giggle, “I think Alistair can sew better than me."

 

Smirking a little at Deirdre's sally, Aeryn considered.  And yet another noble raised by staff.  It was a wonder, really that any of them were capable of a decent relationship.  “I could…I mean...if it would help, I have a quick enough hand with a needle.  I could finish up a few of these for you."

 

This clearly surprised the queen.  “Would you?”

 

Her own shrug was off-hand, “Why not?  I’d offer to do more, but we’ll be leaving in a few days.  I doubt I’d be able to get them back to you, in time.”

 

Some frustrated, almost bitter emotion chased itself across the queen’s face and Aeryn prepared to have her offer rejected.  Deirdre's question, then, startled her.  “Why is it every woman Alistair admires is so?” She waved a hand towards Aeryn’s altogether.  “I was raised to be a political wife, not...”  She tightened her jaw and shook her head.  “Never mind. “ Her head bowed over the little dress in her hands, setting against her slightly bulging stomach.

 

“Your Highness, I…”  Aeryn paused. “I imagine there are other things that come easily to you that I will envy in coming days.”

 

Deirdre looked up at that, with a sudden bright interest.  “You mean when Prince Vael takes his throne?”

 

“Yes.  What I have done …none of that prepares me to stand at the side of a prince as his consort.  In fact, I would say most of it disqualifies me entirely.  But there’s no telling Sebastian that.  And at the very least, I guess I have learned to pretend until I get it figured.”

 

“You watch me.”  There was a dawning of realization in the queen’s tone.

 

Aeryn coughed.  “I’m sorry?”

 

“That’s why you’re always watching!”

 

“Am I?”

 

“I’m always looking up to see you just turning your glance away.  I thought it was just that you were keeping an eye on me for Alistair or that you were nosy.  But you’re _studying_.”  Deirdre grinned suddenly.  “You could have just asked!”

 

“Your Highness, I apologize.  I…I didn’t realize that I was…”   _Had she been?  Bloody Void_.  Combined with a reputation for murder and mayhem, no wonder Deirdre was uncomfortable with Aeryn.  Sheepish, she explained.  “Sebastian calls me a wicked mimic and he’s not wrong.  You’re very, “Aeryn indicated Deirdre's poise with a gesture, “Queenly.  I’m afraid I may observe somewhat unconsciously.”

 

As if she thought Aeryn could use the reminder, Deirdre spoke out, “Prince Vael is fortunate to be able to love where he chooses.”  

 

It at least earned her a small smirk. “So I’ve learned.  And circumstances have set it up so that I can at least offer him a noble enough name, if not nobility in fact.”

 

Sniffing, Deirdre said quite drily.  “You’ve not met many nobles if you think a name lends you any grace you don’t possess, Lady Hawke.”

 

“Well, the ones in Ferelden have been more accepting than the Kirkwall lot, let me tell you.”

 

“We appreciate competence here, even in areas we ourselves don’t possess it.”  It was a real smile that Deirdre wore now.  “I would appreciate any help you can offer, truly.  Forgive me my momentary lapse.”

 

Aeryn returned the smile with one of her own as she dug into the queen’s sewing basket. “Let’s set to, then.”  Recalling why she had decided to visit the queen in her parlor, Aeryn paused to hand over the parcel she’d laid to the side of her chair.  “Meridan Caron sent this.  I’m sorry I didn’t deliver it earlier.”

 

Deirdre took it, with only a moment’s hesitation.  Laying open the thick paper it was wrapped securely in and spying the contents, she laughed as she spread them out for Aeryn to see; five little woolen shirts and a knitted saque.  “Well, this is a handy gift.  Dear woman.  Perhaps the child won’t run about in his altogether, after all.”

 


End file.
